Like Job, But Not with the Whale
by mhd123
Summary: Jack faces the unthinkable: unemployment.


Title: **Like Job, But Not With the Whale**  
>Author: md123<br>Words: 2,882  
>Rating: PG, mild violence<br>Spoilers: "Everything Sunny...", "Sandwich Day", "Do-over"  
>Summary: Jack faces the unthinkable.<p>

At first, Liz didn't think anything of seeing Jonathan weeping at his desk. That twerp was emotionally unbalanced. She assumed Jack had declined to go to his flute recital or something.

The first real sign something was wrong that morning was when she entered Jack's office. The door was slightly ajar and there were a few empty cardboard boxes lying around. In the midst of it all, Jack was frozen, perched on the edge of his chair. He was staring into space and didn't seem to notice that Liz had entered.

"What's all this, Jack?"

Jack head started to move, gently, as if he were talking to her while he couldn't see her. "I'm finished," he said in a distraught, lost tone.

"What?"

"Hank came today. I'm... no longer VP of East Coast television."

That was the thing about Hank Hooper. Beneath the unnaturally cheery exterior was a hard-headed businessman, and his expression meant that you never knew when he was about to murder you.

There was concern in Liz's voice. "What happened?"

Jack's brow furrowed, pain in his eyes and staring at nothing in particular "He said... he said NBC's ratings were too low, and they wanted to go in another direction." He looked his friend. "Liz, he used the 'another direction' line on _me_. I _invented_that line."

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. Six years in this job, and now it's... over."

Liz wasn't sure how to help. "Do you want company? Some help packing?"

"No. I need to be alone with my thoughts for a while."

Liz left, but didn't let him off that easy. She insisted that they go out to dinner later. If Jack was going to drink himself into oblivion that night, and she was pretty sure he would, someone would have to look after him in his current state. In the rare cases where Jack Donaghy was despondent, he was prone to self-destructive behavior. And in any case, she felt a need to process this herself, and who better to do it with but Jack?

-X-X-X-

At dinner, Liz and Jack agreed to have a regular night out every Tuesday. They both realized it would take some effort to remain connected when they weren't an elevator ride away every day. Though no one said so explicitly, it was obvious that both of them weren't ready to give up their regular dose of each other.

Or so Liz assumed. As the job search dragged on, Jack started canceling their dinner appointments, and over the space of a few months he started avoiding her phone calls. Although Liz was by no means reduced to a wreck, she missed having a sounding board for her thoughts and experiences. She found herself having quiet conversations with herself as if she was having them with Jack, trying to imagine what he would say. They weren't loud crazy-man-on-the-subway conversations, just quiet muttering when she was alone.

What hurt, though, is that his regard and use for her only seemed to extend as far as their working relationship. He had seen fit to discard her as soon as he moved on to the next thing. Well, she didn't _know_he'd moved on to the next thing - he hadn't told her about any new job, or even if he'd moved.

One afternoon two months after the firing, Liz tried once again to call him, to try to bridge whatever gulf was growing between them, a gulf she didn't understand at all. The number didn't work. His home phone was disconnected as well, and there was no new number available. It seemed like a gratuitously direct and insulting gesture for him to blow her off in such an impersonal fashion, as if she were some sort of jilted girlfriend. It made her angry, then sad, and Liz retreated to the comfort of food.

Ultimately, though, Liz sought refuge in the suddenly very busy environment of work. There was a new executive she reported to, of course, and Brianna Tomlinson was the opposite of Jack. First of all, she was a big hugger, which was kind of weird. Secondly, she totally embraced the feminist premise of TGS, suggesting that the official name be re-extended to _The Girlie Show with Tracy Jordan_. Liz had gotten sloppy about working to create opportunities for women at the show, and had allowed the staff to get lazy with female stereotypes and cliches. She was actually grateful for the renewed encouragement and purpose.

On the other hand, Brianna always was trying to make the show more family-friendly, even though it was on at 10pm. In fact, she was often tougher than the humorless, ass-covering NBC censors. Nevertheless, Liz still enjoyed the job of working with funny people and making an audience laugh, and work was a needed refuge from an increasingly empty personal life.

To add to the workload, Liz and Pete were occupied with repercussions from the now-infamous "Jesus sketch," a total disaster earlier in the season. Toofer and Liz had crafted what they thought was a brilliant critique of religion in a globalized world. Jack, of course wanted to cut it, but Liz had put her foot down, and as a favor he'd deferred to her judgment. And although Liz thought it had turned out pretty well as a work of comedy, it was massively controversial, somehow managing to offend five major world religions at once. Having triggered protests, boycotts, and unwanted publicity for Kabletown, they spent the next several months making amends both inside and outside the company.

It had been four months since Jack left. Liz had had another late Thursday night rewriting scripts for the next evening's show. It was a chilly winter night, but Liz was hungry. Tired of her usual options, and at the same time feeling a bit lazy, on her way home she cut through an alley in order to detour around some roadwork and get to the new cheesesteak place.

Suddenly, a transient grabbed her wrists and pulled her from the dark alley into an even darker corner. Liz wasn't often in physical danger, but this was one of those times. She was instantly sorry she hadn't ever bothered to replace the rape whistle that had broken off her necklace. Instead, she screamed. Unluckily, a jackhammer from the road project fired up and drowned out her cries completely.

"BLEEEERG!" That one wasn't drowned out, but also didn't carry as well.

The man started pawing at her coat. Liz was actually quite effectively delaying him by fighting back, until the man produced a small knife. As the blade emerged, reflecting a bit of faraway light, Liz froze and exhaled, experiencing the worst physical fear of her life.

Moments later, an even larger man, equally shoddily dressed in a heavy coat, came out of nowhere and tackled the attacker like a linebacker. He quickly disarmed the man, pinning him to the ground, and pummeling the attacker with his fists until he was a motionless lump on the pavement.

Liz stood and stared, transfixed. she grimaced at the severe beating the larger man was delivering on her attacker. Her protector, sure that his target was no longer a threat, stood up while still catching his breath. Without turning to look at Liz, he began walking briskly into the night.

When Liz Lemon was threatened with interaction with a street person, she would generally make extraordinary efforts to avoid it. But in this case, after some hesitation she raced into the darkness to find the gentleman who might have saved her life.

The man ignored her calls, but Liz finally caught up with him and tugged at his arm. The man ignored the pull, and picked up the pace. Finally, Liz caught up again, tugged harder, and faced her protector.

There was just enough light to dimly make out the man's features, and it was not someone she recognized. He was an older man, quite a bit taller than her, wearing a brown, tattered knee-length coat, a black wool cap, and had a very thick, gray beard. As his head turned, his eyes admitted the light from a distant source, illuminating a brilliant blue. That blue triggered her memory, and surprised her utterly.

"Jack?"

-X-X-X-

"Hello, Lemon." Jack seemed defensive.

"What happened to you? Where have you been?"

"You're welcome, by the way."

Liz didn't know what to say, so she simply hugged him, warmly. Backing off, she put her fingers to her nose.

"Ugh. You smell terrible."

Jack frowned. "It's good to see you too."

"So what happened to you?"

"They took it all, Lemon."

"Who?"

"Avery. The North Koreans. They drained my accounts, changed my passwords, had Liddy and me evicted from our own home. They've taken my wife, then my wife's mind with their brainwashing, and now they've taken my material possessions. I'm like a modern-day Job."

"Well at least you haven't been swallowed by a whale yet." The theater tech degree failed Liz again. Jack just looked at her, disgusted and amused in equal measure.

Liz decided to move on. "So you're on the street? Where's Liddy?"

"No. We've secured some... modest accommodations. A very nice lady that works there is watching Liddy tonight while I run some errands."

"How come you didn't tell me?"

"Everyone's cut me off, Lemon." Jack's voice broke a little with emotion. "All my friends and colleagues, Kabletown or GE, the second I left NBC I didn't exist to them anymore. I'm a failure." He bowed his head in shame.

"You should have called me." The idea that she wouldn't help him because he was broke struck Liz as really stupid. Could Jack really be that clueless? "No, no, you and Liddy are coming to stay with me."

Jack thought for a moment, and nodded in resignation while suppressing the urge to break down.

-X-X-X-

Jack's claim of "modest accommodations" was a bit of bravado, because they were actually staying in a shelter. Liz helped him get Liddy and their belongings into the cab, and they were off to Liz's apartment. The cab ride was silently awkward. Liz had hundreds of questions shooting through her mind, but she thought it might be much too raw for Jack right now. Instead, she occupied herself by playing with Liddy, who was cranky from waking up in the middle of the night.

Years ago, in a fit of false optimism about an adoption, Liz had bought nursery items that were now deep in storage. She got them out as Liddy slept in a blanket on the floor and Jack took a shower. Liz's apartment, while not a sprawling palace, was more than enough space for two people to live separate lives if they chose to. Liz was still figuring out this new version of Jack Donaghy, but she hoped he wouldn't choose that.

Jack used to bounce back quickly from setbacks, but Liz could see the whole episode hurt him much more deeply than past traumas. When Banks had forced him out of GE years ago, that was easily understood as the outcome of their personal rivalry. But being fired for performance struck at his self-image and reason for being in a way that shattered the traditional Donaghy confidence. That lack of confidence, combined with his well-publicized failure at Kabletown, had made it difficult for him to find an appropriate job. An entry-level job, as he'd taken before, was much harder to reconcile with child care for Liddy.

Being on the losing end of society had utterly destroyed Jack's worldview. He'd survived by slowly selling off the few items he'd managed to recover from his home, combined with a bit of charity. It was a jarring adjustment for Liz; he was much less disagreeable than the old Jack Donaghy, but she also missed the dynamic guy who could solve any problem and always knew what she should do.

In time, being in the civilized environment of Liz's apartment helped to restore Jack to normalcy. Once he had a good shower and shave, and Liz got him some decent clothes, they had a bizarrely normal domestic existence. Jack was far too busy in his previous life to cook, but as a young man he had liked doing it and took it up again. Liz, not wanting to mess with a good thing, refrained from any housewife jokes.

Although Liz would often talk about work - it still dominated her life, and he knew all the relevant background - she was somewhat surprised that it wasn't an important crutch for their conversation. Liz was growing closer to Liddy, and in full-time dad mode Jack was a constant generator of stories about her. In all their time together, their emphasis on work had never allowed them to really get out and share their experience of the City. With one half of the pair no longer all that busy, they were able to rectify that.

Liz decided not to tell anyone at work about Jack's situation. She wanted to spare him the humiliation and herself the annoying questions. She'd field the occasional phone call from him at work, but that was hardly seemed out of the ordinary at TGS.

As much as the context of their relationship had changed, restoring their old banter helped Jack feel more like himself. In a reversal of their past relationship, he drew strength from her. He started looking again for management jobs, and after about a month he became a finalist for a senior position at Fox News, across the street from Rockefeller Center. Although not quite as lucrative as his old job, he excitedly made plans to get his own apartment and his old life back. Liz was excited for him, and excited to get the old Jack back.

-X-X-X-

After Jack's firing, Liz had learned to be nervous when Hank Hooper came to visit.

"Hi Liz!" Hank gave her a big bear hug; after all, she was a Philly girl. Not that Hank needed an excuse to hug someone.

Liz forced a smile. "Hi Hank."

"How are things going with TGS?"

"We're pretty excited about the rest of the season. Brianna's had some good suggestions and I think we'll finish with a bang." That was mostly a lie.

"Good! Now that Jack's gone we won't have any more fiascos like the Jesus sketch, right?"

Liz nodded until she realized what had just been said. "Excuse me?"

Hank stepped a little closer and lowered his voice. "Jack told me how he insisted on putting in that Jesus business. That's when I decided to let him go." Hank ended with one of his totally inappropriate laughs. "So you won't have to deal with that anymore!"

Liz weakly mimiced his chuckle, as all the pieces fell into place for her. "Excuse me, I have something I have to do."

Liz ran to the subway. She had to let him know how much she appreciated what was, without a doubt, the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her.

-X-X-X-

"You're home early." It was more question than statement.

"Yeah, I wanted to come home to tell you something in person."

Jack waited expectantly.

"I just found out what..."

The oven beeped. "Hold that thought." Jack scurried into the kitchen.

Liz stepped from the entry into her living room to see what Jack was up to. Though the kitchen doorway, she could see he'd concocted some sort of pastry. It smelled delectable, although the curse words emanating from the kitchen indicated that it hadn't gone according to plan. Her eyes then moved to the living room, where some sort of cooking show was paused. To her right, Liddy was playing quietly with some toys on Liz's bedroom floor.

Liz smiled to herself contentedly. In that moment of warmth, security, and satisfaction, she knew that she couldn't say what she had planned to say, what she'd come all the way home to say. It was simply inadequate.

Jack took the oven mitts off and returned to the living room. "So what was it you wanted to tell me?"

Liz swallowed hard and paused, then blurted it out. "I don't want you to move out. Even if you get that job."

Jack's eyes widened, then recovered, as his lips curled into that subtle, inscrutable smile.

"I don't want to impose, Lemon. Are you sure..."

Liz quieted him by throwing her arms around his neck and planting a sweet, conservative kiss on his lips. She drew back for a moment, her eyes darting over his face and looking for a cue. Jack didn't budge, his eyes gazing longingly at her lips, then back up at her eyes.

She kissed him again, passionately this time. Years of tension and attraction and repression and affection, allowed to breathe free for the first time, wrapped around them as Jack fully returned the kiss.

"You make a very compelling argument." Jack caught his breath, then added, barely suppressing his giddiness, "What got in to you all of a sudden?"

"I just... realized something."

"What's that?"

"You're sweeter than you let on."

"No need for insults, Lemon."

"Shut up and kiss me, Donaghy."

He had no choice but to comply. He'd always told her to take what she wanted.

_END_


End file.
